


all our lives

by wolfsmouth



Series: all our lives [1]
Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Post-Series, Pre-Series, Shawn Hunter being Shawn Hunter, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsmouth/pseuds/wolfsmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn spends thirteen years drifting in and out of Cory and Topanga's lives, caught up in his own world. One Christmas changes things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all our lives

Kids are always the best at making people feel like shit without really trying. All it takes is one pointed question, two words really, from Maya to cut to his core.

Shawn could see the unasked questions hiding in Maya's expression. All the whys and hows that he had been asking himself for the last 13 years.

Why would you leave people like Cory and Topanga? How could you treat Riley like that? Why did you stay away for so long? Why would you keep leaving?

How could you ever think any of this was a good idea, for any of you?

That’s the one that’s been banging around in his head more often than usual for months now. Cory's messaging, always incessant and rambling, even when he knew Shawn wouldn’t be able to see them for days or weeks, had somehow increased since Riley entered his classroom. With each new message about the collective (mis)adventures of the extended Matthews clan, Cory slipped in more nostalgia, more of his desire to have him around, something Topanga’s own (warm and friendly, but far more succinct) messages echoed. And it all made Shawn's heart ache more than usual.

It had been easier to justify his actions, his abandonment, when he thought he had been doing the right thing, that he was preventing his inevitable screw up, reinforced with every failed attempt he made to actually stay. When he still believed the advice from everyone around him, from his boss’s glowing approval to Jack encouraging him to see the world. Or the way distance and time gave him a new, stronger sense of connection to those he left behind - Jon, his mother, his sister, even Angela. Or the churning in his stomach and his desire to _prove_ himself to the world, to prove that Shawn Patrick Hunter was _worth something_.

But it had been the baby, Riley, that really changed everything.

*

When Topanga sits them down and tells them she’s pregnant, Cory freaks out. Shawn keeps it cool. He’d had his own suspicions for a while, and while the news is still surprising, someone has to keep a level head for all of their sakes.

Once the new sets in, Topanga makes them all sit down and discuss what the news could mean for all of them. Even though the odds are stacked against their favor, Cory and Topanga decide to take the plunge, pulling Shawn along with them. As always.

At first, life carries on like normal, but the changes start creeping up on them. Certain foods are no longer allowed in the apartment. Catalogs of baby furniture and wallpaper pile on the coffee table. Cory and Topanga pair their class readings with _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_. Shawn’s put in charge of finding a new apartment, because their shitty one bedroom just isn’t going to cut it.

Shawn gets more and more involved in the pregnancy, taking over extra chores and setting up appointments. He even plans Topanga’s shower with Eric, of all people, acting as his partner in crime. No one ends up arrested this time.

Month five rolls around, and the more Topanga starts to show, the closer the baby comes to reality, the more Shawn starts feeling uncomfortable. The real trigger is when people start misjudging their relationship. Nurses at the OB/GYN mistake him for Topanga’s husband (and she doesn’t bother correcting them, since they never seem to run into the same nurse twice). A few shop employees take him and Cory as a couple, adopting their first child. More than once, oddly enough, someone mistakes Topanga for his and Cory’s ex or surrogate. It makes him uncomfortable, but not in the way he expects. Instead, all those moments cut close to feelings Shawn’s had for years. He’s always buried those down deep, but they’re harder to ignore now.

Not that he doesn’t try.

Then he has dreams, nightmares really. They make him think back to Cory’s pre-wedding jitters or his own Cory-and-Topanga-broke-up slasher daydreams. But more vivid. More horrifying. More confusing. The couple notice how quiet and exhausted he gets, and they tell him to take some time to himself. But he can’t. Everything around him is Baby, and he can’t shut it out of his brain, even when he’s asleep. The dreams unnerve him enough that one of his co-workers takes notice and recommends a therapist to him.

Dr. Thomas is a pretty New Age-y, spiritual guy. At first, the man reminds him of Mr. Mack, and it's off-putting until the guy hits the nail on the head about Shawn’s dreams and put him at ease. So he keeps going back. He tells the doctor about his life, everything bad and good that’s happened the last few years. How finding an outlet for his thoughts in words and photographs has largely kept him from going crazy. How he would love to travel and write and take pictures for a living, but he just doesn’t think he’s good enough.

The more time he spends with the good doc, the more the man focuses in on the dysfunction he sees in Shawn’s relationship(s) with Cory and Topanga. And that’s _not_ something Shawn wants to talk about. Not with the people in question. Not with a therapist. Not even to himself. Dr. Thomas misreads Shawn’s reluctance as confirmation of what he already thinks. Clearly, Doc tells him, Shawn needs to get over the childhood infatuation he’s harbored over Cory and accept Topanga as Cory’s chosen partner.

Otherwise, the doctor continues, “you’re going to have a disaster if, _when_ all this jealousy boils over.” The older man pauses, suddenly very serious, and considers him for a moment.

“Have you even _thought_ about moving out or finding the kind of job you say you want? You’re twenty-one, Shawn. This is a time for exploration, not introversion. Your friends might be settling down with a baby of _their_ own. But you don’t have to follow them.”

*

He doesn’t leave or really change anything right away, but he feels heavy in a way that makes him want to take Dr. Thomas’ advice and just _run_ (probably not what the doc meant, but when has Shawn Hunter ever taken advice as it's meant). But for now, Shawn tries to counteract the urge and channels his fear and confusion into the baby.

(Not their collective baby, not _his_ baby, _the_ baby, Cory and Topanga's. Not his. He starts reminding himself daily. A mantra that runs through his head even as he’s setting up a crib, painting the nursery, buying clothes and toys. He runs through it when Topanga curls up next to him on the couch watching TV. His hand comfortably, protectively, over the swell of her belly, her head on his shoulder. With Cory pressed to his other side, hand carding through Shawn's hair, as they talk Lamaze and birth strategies and potential names.

Riley doesn't know it, but he named her. Riley had been his suggestion, and the only one Cory and Topanga agreed on. They would tell him just before he left the hospital, and his chest would swell with pride, then sink with shame, knowing that he was still leaving them.)

But his efforts become mechanical, rote routine. He distances himself mentally and emotionally from Cory and Topanga, from the baby. He throws his energy into his work with a new vigor. He tries to take Dr. Thomas’ advice. He still follows Cory around their (new, much bigger, but dirt cheap thanks to him) apartment, crawling on their hands and knees to find every spot that needed baby proofing. He still goes food shopping and takes Topanga to prenatal yoga. But while they’re both at class or work, Shawn spends his time working every connection he’s established, building his portfolio, setting up interviews, hoping his dream job sticks.

In late November, he gets the news. He has the job, the stipend, he’s set to start traveling in the new year. Two months across the country, just him, a car, and a camera.

But he still doesn’t want to leave, still can’t quite bring himself to do that to any child, even if it wasn’t _his_. He’s still seeing Dr. Thomas, who’s still encouraging him to “spread his wings and join the world” (That should’ve been all the proof Shawn needed that the guy was a quack, but he’s looking for anything to justify his doubts. So he rolls his eyes mentally and nods along).

But no matter what’s coming his way, pushing him in one direction or the other, Shawn still struggles with the final decision.

*

December 8th changes everything. Late the night before, Shawn takes Topanga to the hospital. He stays by her side the whole time, lets her yell and scream at him, and holds her hand all night. Cory comes in a few hours later, glassy eyed and worn out from work and his last final, but he takes his place on the other side of Topanga and follows Shawn’s lead.

Riley Matthews comes screaming into the world at 6 AM, and she’s beautiful. Shawn holds her a few moments later, and something inside him breaks. He can’t fuck this up. Can’t and won’t let himself ruin what Cory and Topanga built. And he knows he probably will if he stays in New York. He can’t take the risk.

He stays at the hospital, standing guard over Riley so her parents can rest (a penance for the sin he’s about to commit, he thinks).

A woman joins him, sliding next to him as they look through the nursery window. They stand there for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts, until she brakes the ice.

"That one over there, in that hideous blue hat. That's my boy. My perfect little boy." Her hand curls over the glass and she’s beaming, glowing like a parent should. "Which little one is yours?"

Her words are sweet, but they still punch Shawn in the gut. He stumbles over his own words. "Uh, over there. In the, um, orange? That's her."

"She's beautiful. You're one lucky daddy."

He doesn’t mean to, but he frowns. "She's actually not _mine_ mine. I'm godfather... uncle? My best friends, she's theirs. I'm here so they could relax for a little bit. Cory, her father, he couldn’t sleep knowing “no one” was watching her.” He shakes his head fondly, acknowledging another of his best friend’s quirks. “The rest of their family isn’t here yet.”

The woman smiles, wider but sadder. "Well, then they're lucky too. My girlfriend and I, I wish we had someone like you. But it's just us.” She trails off, looking past the window at something Shawn can’t see.

“Be thankful for all of this.”

But Shawn is already a million miles away, and anything but thankful.

Holding Riley, being mistaken for her father, for Topanga's or Cory's boyfriend/husband/lover over the last few months, it filled his heart and emptied it over and over again. A constant reminder of what he’s wanted for so long (will still want, thirteen years later).

What he can’t have.

Because Cory has Topanga and Topanga has Cory. Topanga wants Cory and Cory wants Topanga. And Shawn has them both, but not the way he wants. The two of them were, _are_ complete, a perfect matched set, and he's just been bumped from third to fourth wheel.

That night, he goes home with a new determination and an ache in his heart. He calls up his new boss, tells her he can start earlier than expected. He leaves the apartment the day Riley comes home, and crashes at his sister’s for a few days (“To give you guys time to adjust”, he says, and pretends he doesn’t see the way his best friends’ faces fall).

Cory and Topanga both call to try and convince him to stay. Shawn expertly dodges every call. After the first few messages, Shawn gives up on even pretending to listen to them.

He’s in Chicago by the end of the week. By Christmas, he finds the courage to call and apologize for being such an ass when he left. But he never apologizes for the actual act of leaving.

He can’t.

 

* * *

 

When Cory said Shawn had only been gone three months, he’d been more right than not. It had been six months since Shawn dropped in on them. And that visit had been four months after his previous one (if you could call flopping on their couch for a night a visit. He didn’t).

But Shawn was also right when he said he’d been gone thirteen years. Practically his whole life, he hadn’t gone more than a few days without seeing Cory, and he could barely remember a time when it had been different for Topanga. They were the closest people to him, and he let them go thirteen years ago. Everyone "knew" it was because Cory and Topanga were settled down with an apartment and a kid, and Shawn, well he still wanted to see the world. But more than anything, his insecurity settled in and festered, until he felt like he was going to self-destruct again.

So he packed up and traveled. When his two months were up, he came back home to Cory and Topanga for a while. Ostensibly, he was waiting for his next gig. But once he was there, it was hard to leave again. Right from the moment he walked in the door, it felt more right than anything in his trip.

*

Before the door even closes, Topanga’s on him, forcing his bags out of his hands and replacing them with a swaddled bundle.

“Thank God you’re here. Please take her for a minute. Or an hour. I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get a break.” At first, Shawn thinks she mistook him for Cory. He wouldn’t be surprised; she looks exhausted and frustrated enough that he thinks maybe he just interrupted their routine. Maybe Cory was supposed to be here now to take over baby duty, but instead Shawn snuck in like an imposter.

But almost as soon as she collapses onto the couch (very new and very nice, he notes), she practically springs back up. Smacking herself on the forehead, she grunts. “Ugh! I am so sorry Shawn. I’m a terrible host right now.” She walks back over to him and takes Riley back, placing her in a swing. Turning back to Shawn, Topanga kisses his cheek (and hell, if that still didn’t make him blush a little) and wraps her arms around him tight, face buried in the collar of his jacket. “How was your trip? I can’t believe it’s been two months. We missed you so much.”

Shawn’s insides squirm. “Trip was fine. The Midwest is… weirder than you think, but I got some good pictures, wrote some good articles.” Looking over her shoulder, he surveys the room quickly, taking in the additional clutter caused by two months of baby. “Hard to believe you guys could’ve missed me that much. Looks like a lot’s… happened.”

Topanga pulls away, gripping his shoulders tightly. She puts on a stern face and says, “Now you listen here, Shawn Hunter. How could we not miss you?” Her face softens, and she adds “It’s actually been hard without you here. Cory’s student teaching now, and I’m trying to take night classes, and Riley, I love her, but she’s a handful.”

As if on cue, a loud wail comes from the swing next to them. Topanga rubs at her head and eyes. “Listen, I hate springing this on you, but could you?“

He’s already on it, carefully picks up the baby (Riley, his _goddaughter_ ) and tries to rock her gently, bouncing her up and down as he circles the room. After a few laps, her eyes finally close. From the couch, Topanga studies him with a strange look.

“What,” he says with an affected contempt, “never seen a grown man with a baby before?”

She smiles and laughs lightly. “It’s just, I didn’t think she’d take to you so fast.” She pauses before starting again, a little more seriously. “You know, this isn’t just why we missed you, having a third helper with Riley. We missed you because you were gone. And it didn’t feel right without you here.”

Shawn waves her off. “You’re exaggerating. I kinda thought it’d be nice without ol’ Shawnie around for a little bit.”

“Not really. It just felt off.” An amused look crosses her face.” You know, Cory still gets confused when he wakes up and you're not passed out at the end of the bed. And I don’t have anyone to blame stealing covers on.”

Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by a pressure around his neck. Shawn immediately knows who it is.

“Shawn, Shawn, Shawn. Oh Shawnie, I can’t believe you’re here! Two months! Two months without this guy!” Shawn makes a slight choking sound, and Cory quickly readjusts his hands, letting them rest around Shawn’s midsection. His stomach flips. The shorter man presses his face against his shoulder and, if Shawn didn't know better, smells him.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”

The grip around his waist tightens. “Don’t you even start with me, Mr. Man! You've been gone too long for that.” Cory’s breath is hot against his neck, and Shawn can feel his skin prickle, but he still leans back into Cory and grins at how he can still push all Cory’s buttons.

*

Being with them feels so right that Shawn manages to settle in for a little over two months. Cory leaves for student teaching in the mornings, while Topanga takes an extra morning shift at one of her jobs. They both come home, and then switch, Topanga heading to class and Cory to work. For his part, Shawn plays nanny most of the day. At first, he and Riley stick around the apartment. But quickly, he settles into a routine of taking her for walks or to parks, taking pictures around the city as they went. Sometimes they meet up with Eric and the kids he watches. They come home when Cory and Topanga do, they eat an early dinner, always together, then he gets Riley ready for bed.

Somewhere along the way, he finds himself looking for jobs around the city, but all he comes up with are positions in department store photo studios. Nonetheless, he finds himself considering them.

In March, he gets a call about a potential gig, covering some hippie music festival in New England the following month. He gives them a tentative yes, an agreement, but one with the potential to back out of. He feels conflicted. On the one hand, a job’s a job, and the magazine it’s for is a decent one, and pays well. On the other, it means leaving again, and the thought hurts more knowing what he missed.

Things start to get weird at the end of the month (good weird, Shawn thinks. But a weird that makes him grow paranoid and doubtful of himself).

One morning, Cory’s running late. Topanga’s already gone, and Riley’s still asleep. Shawn’s headed to the couch, bowl of cereal in hand as Cory finally heads out. Cory reaches the door before he doubles back, making a beeline for his best friend.

Cory kisses him goodbye.

It certainly isn't the first time Cory’s kissed him, but it’s far less friendly than any they've shared since Pennbrook. Cory smiles and waves goodbye again as the door shut. Shawn’s left shell-shocked, mouth agape, and still holding his spoon halfway to his mouth.

*

He spends the next week hyper-aware of Cory’s actions. He starts noticing the way Cory lingers near him more often, the way he’s somehow even _more_ tactile with Shawn ( feat Shawn didn't even know was possible). And it’s not just Cory; Topanga’s in on it too. He can feel them circle in closer and closer as the days pass, and he can’t tell _why_.

And then one night they invite him to bed.

It’s all so casual that Shawn nearly chokes on his salad. He pounds his chest and asks them to repeat what they just said.

“Well, you've been here awhile, and it doesn’t feel right to have you sleeping on the couch or that blowup mattress in the glorified spare room we call a guest bedroom. I know you haven’t been sleeping that well, and just-“

Topanga cuts him off. “It’s not like it’d be the first time we all shared a bed. For God’s sake, you spent half our nights in the old place curled up somewhere in our bed.” Shawn goes to respond, but he’s preemptively cut off with a finger wagging in his face. “We won’t take no for an answer Shawn Hunter.” He shuts his mouth and nods in defeat.

That night, Shawn dawdles in his nighttime routine, tries to draw out the time before he goes to bed. It’s purely platonic, he knows (He thinks? Cory’s ridiculous enough to try something like that, but surely Topanga wouldn't spring something on him out of the blue). But his heart still beats double time, and a thousand dirty thoughts flood through his mind before he gets himself together.

He walks in as Topanga’s coming out of the bathroom, looking effortlessly gorgeous, even in pajama shorts and a ratty t-shirt (Is it his? It looks like his). Cory’s already in bed, reading some ridiculously large book about the Cold War (Okay. _That_ shirt is definitely his. Or it was at some point). Shawn’s rarely ventured into their room during his stay, and their bed’s not what he imagined, not that he spent any time imagining their bed. It’s a queen, he guesses, awfully frilly, and there’s plenty of room for all three of them. Shawn stands at the foot of the bed awkwardly, waiting for Topanga to get in next to Cory. But she motions for him to go first. They fall asleep side by side, Topanga and Cory closer to the edges of the bed, and Shawn tucked in between.

He wakes up with Cory practically molded to his back and Topanga pressed to his chest. Their legs are all in a tangle, and it’s hard to tell which foot or hand belongs to whom. In the haze between sleep and reality, it all feels so right. To feel Topanga’s hand over his heart and Cory’s arm tossed over his waist. He feels safe, loved. But as he comes to, something nags at his head, telling him it’s all wrong.

Riley cries softly in her sleep from her room and he carefully, reluctantly, disentangles himself from the couple and pads quietly across the room and through the door.

He looks back, and sure enough, husband and wife slowly gravitate towards one another, like they always have. His heart beats wildly, and for some reason he feels his eyes burn. He showers, wakes Riley, feeds both of them, and repeats the words _platonic_ and _married_ over and over in his head.

In the end, Shawn chooses to leave again. This time, it’s less abrupt. They sit down to talk it out, make plans even. But Shawn’s leave of absence is less concrete this time around. Before, they knew how long Shawn would be gone and that he’d come back. This time, Shawn talks in vague terms, lists the possibilities for future jobs, the benefits of maybe traveling a little bit, maybe build up his portfolio some more. It’s unspoken, but they all know Shawn’s looking for a way out of whatever they’re becoming.

 

* * *

 

He comes back in May to see Cory graduate. There’s a valiant effort on his part to stay away, but Topanga leaves him a series of increasingly severe and graphic voicemails, detailing what would happen if he didn't come.

The whole Matthew’s clan is together for the event. Amy gives him strange looks, asks him more than once if he’s eating okay, are they paying him well, is he staying safe? Alan pats him on the back and tells him his first article is hanging in their kitchen. The way Alan says it makes Shawn think of it hanging on the fridge next to Josh’s scribbles or one of Morgan’s tests. Even though Shawn doesn’t think that’s how it’s meant, that’s the image that makes him smile and the one he keeps in his head.

Eric’s running around with Josh and playing with Riley, and Morgan’s on the couch, looking almost as uncomfortable as he feels.

“Nice hair”. Shawn takes a seat on the couch next to her. At some point in the last year, she’s dyed her hair a deep blue.

Morgan smirks, “Thanks. I did it myself. Mom likes it better than the green I tried. She freaked then. Dad’s just glad that I haven’t pierced anything.” Shawn gives her a look, and she rolls her eyes. “Alright, that he _knows of_ ”.

He nods slightly and pats her leg. “Good job. Now, how’re things at the alma mater? Am I still a legend?”

*

Eventually things calm down and everyone starts to leave. Eric lingers a little longer, finally taking some time to relax with all the kids gone or asleep, but even he has to leave at some point to catch the subway back to his apartment.

Then there were three. Riley’s out cold in her crib, and Cory and Topanga look beat. They collapse together on the sofa, nursing beers and watching TV in a comfortable silence. At some point, Shawn falls asleep, and when he wakes up, he’s curled up with his two best friends under blankets.

Part of him wants to stay there forever, but another part of his brain registers that it’s way too bright out. Shawn glances at the clock to find that, yes, he did in fact oversleep, and if he doesn’t leave within the next ten minutes, he’s going to miss his flight. He carefully untangles himself from the sofa, changes his shirt, and grabs his bags. Padding down the hall, he stops in Riley’s room and kisses her forehead, sending out a silent apology for leaving her. Again.

He leaves a note for Cory and Topanga on the coffee table. He knows he apologized too much in it, but the other alternative was to wake them up, and he couldn't bring himself to do that either.

*

He's gone for two years before he's back. This time it's for Topanga's graduation.

Shawn doesn’t know if Cory’s more excited for Topanga or that Shawn’s actually here, but either way, Cory’s enthusiasm manages to trump anyone else's.

Topanga’s parents play nice with each other and, along with Cory’s parents, they offer to watch Riley so that the three of them can go celebrate.

They spend a few hours just walking around the city, filling each other in on everything they've missed. Some of it Shawn already knows from the emails they think he never received (he did, he just... never answered). But Shawn nods along anyway. He doesn’t know if it’s the occasion or the distance they had between them before, but Cory and Topanga act like Shawn hasn't avoided seeing them for two years.

Eventually, the sun sets and the trio make their way through a series of bars, getting drunker as they go. By bar two, they squeeze themselves into one side of a booth and dance too close. By bar five, he’s kissed and been kissed by both of them enough times that he’s lost count.

Somewhere along the way, they wind up in a shitty motel, and Shawn’s really not sure how it happened, but they end up in bed together. One minute he’s lying there alone. The next, Cory and Topanga are working his shirt off, taking turns kissing him, nipping at his neck and ears. He returns the favor and then some. It’s all messy and rushed, but it’s everything Shawn’s dreamed of for years. He falls asleep between them again.

Morning comes, and Shawn doesn’t find himself freaking out. Much. There’s an awkward couple of minutes where they try to process what happened, but they ultimately take it in stride. They've all been together in some way for so long that it was bound to happen at least once, Topanga rationalizes, it’s the new millennium and they all need to lighten up.

They get back to the apartment and everyone else leaves, but Shawn gets to stay a little longer. In fact, he has two weeks before he’s due to leave for California.

Once more, he melds back into their lives. Riley’s confused by his continued presence, but she spends most of the day at preschool, and by the time she comes home, it’s almost bed time. To her, Shawn is of little consequence as long as he brings her food and lets her climb all over him. Cory and Topanga welcome him into their bed, but most nights he just finds himself curled up with them. There’s been no declarations of love or even a clear redefinition to their relationship, but Shawn feels like maybe Cory and Topanga finally feel the way he does, and that’s a step in the right direction.

*

The day before he’s set to leave it blows up in his face. In true Shawn Hunter fashion, it’s over a kind gesture done on his behalf. One he overreacts to.

Topanga and Riley are out, having dinner with Topanga’s sister nephew. Cory comes to the dinner table with the announcement that he’s found a job. A permanent, non-subbing job as a social studies teacher. When he announces that the school’s name is John Quincy Adams, Shawn almost chokes on his potatoes from laughter. Of _course_ Cory Matthews would get a job like this.

“And that’s not all,” Cory adds, looking so hopeful. “I've been looking around, and well, there’s a really great job available for a photo company. It’s nearby too. High end, but not too fancy. They do a lot of cool scenery and landscape stuff. Very artsy. And well, I gave them your name, showed them some of your stuff. They seemed interested. Even mentioned an interview.”

Shawn’s silverware clatters to the table. “You did _what_? Cory,” he pauses to try and process his thoughts, tries not to say something he’ll regret. “Cory, what the _fuck_ man?”

Yeah, he already regrets this, but he can’t stop once he starts. All he can think of how he was so wrong.

“You can’t just go around planning my life for me! You didn't even ask! I’m leaving in like, twelve hours. What the hell did you expect me to do?”

Cory looks crestfallen. “I just wanted you to stay. Here. With us. I just. We thought-“

Shawn cuts him off with a sarcastic laugh. “So Topanga’s in on this shit too? What were you two thinking? You thought I’d just drop my job, my, my _life_? Just drop everything I've built for myself on a moment’s notice for you? That if you fucked me then I’d stay? That we could all play house?” Cory looks abashed, and it sets Shawn off even more. “Is that what this all was? Just some kind of ploy to keep me here in the city with you?”

“That’s not what any of this was, and you know it.”

Shawn laughs sarcastically. “Oh really? Tell me what it is then. ‘Cause to me? To me it seems like you two miss good old Shawnie around to get into all kinds of hijinks with. I’m surprised you didn't try to find me a job at fucking _John Quincy Adams_. Newsflash, Cory, life isn't a fucking sitc-“

He’s cut off by Cory’s mouth on his.

It’s a variation of a classic Cory tactic when they get like this. A hug, a kiss, on one occasion it was Cory pinning him to the ground and sitting on him until he calmed down. Usually, it’s a shock to the system, a way to ground Shawn and pull him out of whatever spiral he’s sent himself into.

But not this time.

He pushes the other man away. “No. Cory, it’s not gonna work. I just, I _want_ …” he trails off, gesturing towards everything around them. “But I can’t do this right now. Not like this.” He turns and grabs his bags waiting by the door. “Keep whatever I left. I, I gotta go.”

The door slams shut and Shawn feels his stomach drop. Part of him wants to open the door back up, to call and bail on his job, to give it all up and just stay. Like Cory and Topanga clearly wanted. But Shawn knows he’s right. He went about it the complete wrong way, but he’s right. He built what he has, and he did it by himself. He’s sacrificed before, and he’ll do it again if he needs to. As much as he needs and wants Cory and Topanga, he still needs something in his life, something meaningful, that’s all his and none of theirs.

He repeats that to himself until he’s out of the state. As soon as he passes the state lines, he pulls over and cries. He pounds on the steering wheel and yells at himself for being _so fucking stupid_.

Once it’s out of his system, he pulls himself together and keeps going. He tells himself that he’s going to take the best pictures of his life, write the best articles he ever has. Everyone will be blown away by his work and love him. If he had to sacrifice what he just gave up, then he damn well better get something of equal value back.

 

* * *

 

It's lonely at first. Shawn doesn’t know if Cory and Topanga sent out some complex email chain telling everyone to leave him alone or not, but no one, not a single person, calls him for _months_. And he’s not sure if he should be thankful for that or not, but he matches the silence he receives.

It's hard, trying to make it on your own. Despite everything Shawn has ever thought about himself, he's never been so self-reliant before. The months go by and it gets worse. The feeling of being so totally unattached and limitless starts to grate. There are nights where he feels like he can't take it anymore. The loneliness starts to feel too deep and he toys with the idea of ending it. But he always has an assignment to finish, always has another waiting for him. It's not perfect, but it's enough to slowly claw his way back out.

Eventually, Shawn and Cory both cave. They send each other an email on the same November day. Unsurprisingly, both emails mirror each other. They’re thoughtful, but carefully guarded and a touch impersonal. Topanga sends her own email a few days later. Shawn responds immediately, and they start up a correspondence. He and Topanga manage to get past what happened, and their conversations get deeper, philosophical, personal, even a little flirty at times (at least on his end). They confide in each other. But he and Cory can’t seem to do the same. Being Shawn-and-Cory, they can’t bring themselves to stay apart long, and they keep exchanging calls and emails, but it’s not even close to how they used to be.

It’s enough, though.

*

He finally gets to Europe in 2006. He’s signed on to basically do a travel journal, photograph and blog his journey backpacking across the continent. It’s amazing and exhilarating to see places he only dreamed of seeing before. He thinks back to his childhood and seeing the maps in Feeny's classroom. How he would go home at night and picture it, thinking of how the world was so much larger than the trailer park and how he would probably never get past the neon pink flamingo outside his window.

As he travels, he finds himself wishing Cory and Topanga were here to see him more and more. But he knows that, even if they’re still not talking that much, they’re definitely following his trip. And so he starts peppering his entries with inside jokes, takes some extra photos he knows they would like, even if they weren't good enough for the site.

He takes his time getting to France, partially because he finds so many amazing sites along the way, partially because it makes him think of Angela. In Paris, he write a particularly wistful entry about love. It’s where Angela was the last time they talked. Even though he knows it’s crazy to think they’ll run into each other, and he’s not even sure if he wants to see her, he can’t help thinking about her. But it’s Paris. If he’s ever going to get nostalgic and sappy about past love, this is the place.

Topanga and Cory call him up that night. He reassures them he’s fine. He’s over Angela, or as over her as he’ll ever be. They let him ramble on. He talks about everything that comes into his mind. It just feels so good to hear their voices that it all comes out. They switch roles after a while, and Cory and Topanga talk to him about everything. They even get Riley on the phone for a few minutes. It’s painfully awkward, and Shawn clams up, but Riley lisps her way through a story about starting school and losing her first tooth. Shawn wants to punch himself for leaving again.

When Topanga and Cory get back on the phone, he can tell they notice he's more subdued, but they don't say anything. Eventually, he can feel himself getting tired, and they talk Shawn to sleep.

He wakes up with the phone still in his hand and a smile on his face. He feels lighter than he has in ages.

*

Things get better between all of them, slowly but surely. He makes it to Cory's parents' house for Christmas, then crashes at the apartment a month later. For the next two years, they develop a pattern: Shawn stops by for birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays, sometimes staying for a night, sometimes staying for a few days. He gets a key to the apartment in late 2007. When he needs a place to stay, he’s welcome to sneak in and pass out on the couch and leave in the morning. Sometimes Cory and Topanga don’t even know he was there.

In late 2008, Cory and Topanga announce they’re having another baby. Riley squeals at the table, clapping her hands in joy.

“Really? I’m gonna have a baby brother or sister? I've _got_ to tell Maya right now!”

She jumps up from her seat, grabs the phone, and runs towards her room. Halfway down the hall, she stops. Narrowing her eyes, she looks down at them. “It better be a girl. If it’s not,” she wags the phone at them, “you better try again.” With that, she spins around and vanishes from sight.

Shawn chokes on his spaghetti trying to hold back laughter. “Man. That is some kid you've got there.”

The couple across from him just smile fondly in the direction their daughter went. Cory takes his wife by the shoulder. “Boy. Who thought doing this again was a good idea?”

Topanga doesn’t answer. Instead she looks to Shawn and rolls her eyes. He responds with a knowing look. They both knew Cory would have a dozen little Topangas and Corys running around if he could.

“So,” he breaks the quiet, “It’s really baby season now, isn't it. First my sister and her twins, now you two. Next thing you know, Eric’s gonna come through that door and announce he adopted like, a whole orphanage.”

All three of them burst out laughing, but they all cast quick, suspicious glances towards the door. You could never be too sure with Eric.

“How far are you along?”

Topanga beams. “Four and a half months now.” Shawn sputters, honestly not expecting that, and Topanga quickly backtracks. “We only just found out a week ago. I don’t know how I missed it, but you know how stressful things can be at work. I honestly didn't notice that I’d put on a few pounds or missed my period.” She’s thoughtful for a moment. “I think the big reason I missed it was really the fact I wasn't nauseous or sick. I think we all remember how I was with Riley.” The trio share a shudder at the memories.

Shawn put his hand over hers. “Listen. If you need anything at all, I’m here. Want to baby proof the house again? Need a crib put together? I’m your man again.”

She smiles, soft and pretty. “We really appreciate it Shawn. But we get that you still have and want your own life. Please, _please_ don’t ever feel tied down here. You’re one of the most important people in the world to us, behind Riley. We want you to be happy. And we won’t make you feel pressured to stay or rearrange your life for us this time.” Cory nods in agreement.

It’s meant to be kind, an acknowledgement of what went wrong in the past, but it still stings a little. He pushes it aside. “I’m free for a while. What do you need?”

Cory smirks and cracks his knuckles. “Well, since you asked, we have to paint the spare room, set up furniture, buy clothes. There’s classes to attend, Topanga needs to figure out a birth plan-“

Topanga places a hand over her husband’s mouth and mouths an apology to Shawn. “Cory, honey, I think he gets the idea.”

She fidgets with the napkin on her lap. “This would really mean a lot to me. I’m having some trouble at work with maternity leave. They want me to come back right away, and there’s been some vague threats about my job ‘not being available’ by the time I’d come back from leave.”

Cory butts in. “Five years. Ya give five stinkin’ years to a law firm as their best damn lawyer, and it’s still not good enough to get a few months off? Bah!”

“It’s not just me either. Helen and Janae are in the same situation, and while I can probably make a case for myself, I can’t leave them and any other expecting parents in the same situation. I have a plan, but it means I’m going to be busy for at least a few weeks, probably a month, maybe two. I, _we_ would really appreciate any help with all of this.”

“Well…” Shawn leans back in his seat, playing it cool. “I guess now’s a good time to mention my friend Dylan wants me to sublet their apartment a few blocks from here while they’re away and I’m doing the whole blog thing. I’m in.”

Cory and Topanga beam at him from across the table, and it's immediately worth it.

*

The next few months are something of a nostalgia trip for Shawn. He and Cory set up the crib, or rather, Shawn sets it up while Cory “supervises”. They spend a Saturday painting the baby’s room, which ends in a paint fight between the two men (his heart beats double-time when Cory runs paint covered fingers across his face). When Cory has to stay a little later to grade papers, Shawn takes Cory’s place in Topanga’s birthing classes, and helps her decide on a water birth. They curl up together on the couch and talk baby names, like they did for Riley.

Some things are different though. Every now and then he has to pick Riley up from school so one or both of her parents can work late. They can’t stay up as late and just talk about life like they did in college. He even listens to Cory’s lesson plan ideas and Topanga’s courtroom arguments, and tries his best not to fall asleep during any of them (It’s not too hard. They both get so _passionate_ about their jobs and it’s kinda hot).

While he spends most days at the Matthews’ apartment, he devotes some of them to himself. Even though Dylan’s apartment is filled with things that aren't his, Shawn feels at home and at peace. Once a week, he spends the night in a bar or pub, catching up with old friends and making new ones. He goes to shows and wanders the city. He starts a blog for himself and fills it with poems and photographs. He even  _dates,_ though not a single one lasts longer than a second date.

He’s not sure how he does it, but he’s managed to find a balance between Cory-and-Topanga time and his own life.

As time passes, he notices Cory and Topanga do it too; Cory usually goes out with colleagues on Friday nights (Thursday if the week's especially rough), and Topanga has a book club every Wednesday. Topanga courts clients at the kinds of art shows Cory would hate, and Cory takes Riley to see all the historic sites that Topanga’s tired of but Cory can never get enough of.

Seeing the way they make their lives complement each other’s makes Shawn realize that this is probably what ruined all his previous attempts to stay around. No matter how much you care, there’s only so much time you can spend with someone before you resent them. For once, he has some hope for their future.

Riley, however, is still an enigma. Shawn constantly finds himself tongue-tied around his seven year old goddaughter. He knows it’s shitty, but he can’t take the awkwardness. He finds himself dodging her, preferring to spend time with Cory and/or Topanga. He wonders why he can’t be the same Shawn who took her everywhere and did everything for her.

Their relationship reaches its peak (thus far, and that she can remember) the day Auggie’s born.

Topanga’s quest for secure maternity leave far exceeded even her own expectations. A few carefully chosen names dropped, some relevant statistics, and a lot of terrifyingly forceful negotiations leaves Topanga and all of her co-workers with the best maternity and paternity leave in at least the state. She and Cory take personal days to celebrate.

Around the time they’re set to come home and get Riley from school, Shawn gets a frantic phone call in their stead. Cory’s on the other end, panicking and near hyperventilating, but Shawn manages to make out that Topanga’s in labor. Shawn sits straight up and takes charge. He makes sure Cory stays at the hospital and promises to get Riley and call everyone to tell them. On the way to Riley’s school, he calls everyone he can think of. Eric, Morgan, Alan and Amy, Nebula, Jedidiah and Rhiannon (who, strangely enough, are on a lunch date together), Feeny and Bolander, even Angela, despite her being halfway across the world.

Riley’s school impresses him and pisses him off all in one. Despite the fact he's picked her up before, they check his ID twice, make him wait in the office, and get Cory on the phone to make sure Shawn can take Riley. Finally, everything is okayed and Riley comes nervously into the room. She stares at her godfather and they’re both silent.

It’s awkward.

Riley fidgets and finally blurts out “Is everything okay? Are mom and dad alright? Maya said it was probably the baby. Is it the baby?” and if Shawn wasn't in a hurry, he’d probably laugh at the way she reminds him of her father. Instead, he assures her that no, nothing’s wrong, but yes, the baby is coming and they need to go _now_.

They make it to the hospital in record time, but neither of them can go in the room. Shawn lounges in a waiting room chair and tries to play it cool. He hopes it’ll help Riley calm down. But she busies herself by pacing dramatically and fidgeting with her hair. At the ten minute mark, he can’t take it anymore.

“Sit down, squirt. We need to talk.”

Riley glares at him, but listens.

‘I know this is kind of a huge deal, and it’s probably pretty scary, but it’s gonna be alright. Your parents have done this before, or really, your mom’s done this before, since she’s the one actually pushing that thing out.” Riley scrunches her face in disgust and Shawn laughs. “Yeah. It’s pretty gross. But listen, we’re gonna be here a long dam- _darn_ time. So you need to sit back and get comfortable. I've seen a few babies in my life, and this could be awhile.”

Riley still looks nervous, so Shawn tries again. “Did I ever tell you about my niece and nephew?” They both know he hasn’t; Shawn’s told her exactly three stories that she can remember. But Riley plays along and says no, already hooked. Shawn tells her about the birth of his niece and nephew, and how his brother-in-law passed out in the delivery room and had to get stitches while Stacy screamed at his unconscious form.

Eventually, Riley drifts off and Shawn’s left to his own thoughts.

Early in the morning, Cory finally comes out of the delivery room. He’s not holding a baby, but he’s grinning madly, so Shawn knows everything’s okay. Shawn shakes Riley awake. She grumbles sleepily under her breath and pushes him away. In response, he turns her towards her father, and she instantly perks up.

“Daddy! Daddy! Where’s mommy and the baby? Is it a boy or a girl? Can I see? I wanna see. Can I hold it?”

Cory laughs and comes over to them. Shawn can see how exhausted his best friend is. “Hold up there, Ri, that’s a lot of questions. Your _brother_ is fine.” Riley’s face falls for a second at the word brother but perks right back up. “All baby’s just get some tests done when they’re born. He’ll be back soon and then you can see him. And _maybe_ hold him if you promise to be really careful. Mommy’s resting right now, but we can go see her soon.”

“You guys pick a name yet?”

“August. Auggie for short. We’re still working on a middle name, which is harder. Panga and I both have awful middle names. Don’t wanna share that legacy. We got lucky with Riley.”

Cory sits down next to Shawn and takes his hand. Shawn can feel his cheeks heat up just a little. “Listen Shawn. I know we've been… all over the place the last few years, but it’d mean a lot to us if you’d be Auggie’s godfather too.”

Shawn shouldn't be surprised. He is, after all, Riley’s godfather. But he always thought Eric would get the honor for Cory’s second kid, and he tells Cory as much.

The other man waves him off. “Eric’s fine with it. It feels, I dunno, right for you to be godfather to both of ours.” There’s a comfortable silence until Riley sees a baby being wheeled into Topanga’s room.

“Is that him? Is that Auggie? Can I go see him and Mommy now?” She doesn’t even wait for an answer, and instead races into the room, Cory and Shawn trailing behind.

When they get in, Riley’s already climbed up next to Topanga and started scrutinizing her new sibling. Topanga’s holding Auggie, looking sweaty and tired, despite her nap. She motions for him to come closer, and god, she looks just as gorgeous as ever. She carefully places the swaddled baby in his arms, and he falls in love all over again. Auggie looks like Cory with his tiny dark curls, but he can see traces of Topanga in his nose and mouth.

He’s too busy smiling down at the baby to notice Riley frowning.

*

He spends the next few weeks helping Cory and Topanga deal with relatives and with Auggie, who, just like his sister, is quite the crier.

When the time comes for Shawn to leave again, there’s no fight, not tears, and no disappointment. He makes a promise to come back and visit when he’s done, and he means it. Cory and Topanga don’t try to keep him, but they both kiss him goodbye and hold him tight.

Shawn definitely still yearns (though you’d never _hear_ him use that word). A part of him would still gladly give everything up and be with Cory and Topanga if they asked. But they haven’t. He accepts that they might never ask. But for once, it’s alright. He might not have them the way he wants, but he still has them in his life.

He comes in and out of their lives more frequently the next few years. The holidays are always when he feels most comfortable. The Matthews’ house will always be a second home to him. Ringing in the New Year there always feels the most… right. Like he can expect what’s coming in the next year, and knows it’s good.

*

2014 is different. Cory and Topanga decide to protest the long commute to Philly and make their parents suffer the trip instead. Shawn doesn’t expect things to change that much, but coming home for the holidays changes everything.

 

* * *

 

Cory finds him sprawled out across the couch.

It's 1:30 AM, maybe 2, on Christmas Day. Shawn can’t sleep, can’t get the last 24 hours out of his head. He hears Cory pad down the hallway, trying and failing to be sneaky and subtle. Shawn doesn’t even bother opening his eyes.

Even without seeing him, Shawn can picture what Cory’s doing perfectly. He’s pouring himself a glass of milk, hand sliding underneath an old t-shirt (that’s probably Shawn’s) to scratch his chest. He probably looks ruffled and sleepy and adorable.

Cory walks over to the couch and picks Shawn’s head gently. He slides in underneath, leaving Shawn's head resting in his lap.

There’s silence.

Then, “I know you're awake Shawnie.”

The man in question snorts.  “Yeah, well I wasn't pretending to be asleep.” He looks up at the other man. “Why are you even up?”

Cory makes a noncommittal gesture. “My dad’s snoring was too much. I don't know how Riley’s sleeping through that”. Cory’s hands find their way to Shawn’s head and he pets his hair absentmindedly the way Shawn loves. It gets quiet again.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?” The hands stop abruptly. “Shawn, I could never, ever hate you in a million years. You're my...” he trails off.

Shawn quirks his head. Cory was always so quick to mention how Shawn was his best friend, his brother; they were literally singing songs about it a few hours ago. Unless he’s reading way too much into this, which is possible, something’s shifted in the few hours since they all went to bed.

Before either of them can say anything, Topanga makes her way down the hall. Wordlessly, she mirrors her husband and slides herself under Shawn's legs, leaving his stomach dipped between their bodies. Shawn tilts his head up and smiles at her, and she returns in kind.

“This is nice, but it also kinda feels like an old-fashioned gang up.” He looks from Cory to Topanga and back again. They both look abashed. Shawn narrows his eyes. It was never good when those two cooked up a scheme together. “Are we having a surprise slumber party or something?”

Cory’s foot starts tapping beneath him. Topanga bites her lip and not-so-casually looks away.

They’re definitely up to something. He wonders if it's about the upstairs apartment again.

He hears Topanga exhale. “We _were_ going to wait to talk to you about this until we were _alone_ alone, but now’s as good as any time I guess.” A deep breath. “Cory and I”, she starts, placing her hand on the man’s leg, right by Shawn's ear. “We've done a lot of thinking. And I think it's safe to say that we, well we've all fucked up a lot over the last 13 years. But subtlety never seemed to work and neither did being directly...indirect.”

She stops again, and Shawn can almost see her pre-planned speech fly out of her brain.

“No matter what, one of us screws something up. But we've wasted so much time. 13 years or 25 or our whole lives, however you want to look at it. Having you here, seeing you with Riley and Maya today...”

Cory's leg is bouncing, out of nerves Shawn can tell and he's about to blurt out whatever’s on his mind. "We want you with us Shawn."

Shawn raises his head in confusion and plays dumb. “What? What does that even mean? I'm already here with you guys.”

Cory's the one who looks him dead in the eye and calls his bluff. “You know perfectly well that's not what we mean.”

From the other end of the couch, Topanga squeezes his thigh, just above the knee. “We love you Shawn.”

He shrugs a shoulder casually (not an easy feat when he’s still lying down, half in another man’s lap). “Yeah, I know. Love you guys too.”

“We know. But we also _love_ you. And you feel the same way, don’t you.”

It's worded like a question, but spoken like an absolute truth. His heart is racing. This is… not what he had been expecting.

Of course he loves them both, but they're Cory and Topanga Matthews, the most perfect married couple to ever exist, and he says as much.

Topanga laughs lightly. “Maybe, but I remember our wedding. You almost broke it up and wrestled Cory. To the _ground_. And then, not even five minutes later, I practically married you too.” She sees Shawn’s look of confusion. “You were leaning over Cory’s shoulder the whole time I said my vows. I have the video, and you definitely looked into it. Maybe I didn't know it so clearly at the time, but I was basically saying them to you too." She pauses, thoughtful. "Though, by default, marrying Cory probably means getting you as part of a package deal”

Above him, Shawn can hear Cory laughing. ‘She’s right you know. We've pretty much been married for 13 years.”

The way they’re talking makes Shawn feel chagrined. “If you've known for so long,” he starts slowly, “then why didn't you ever just, I dunno, say something?”

“We were going to, a long time ago, but then Riley happened and everything was confusing. And then you left, and when you came back we were still so busy with Riley and school and our plan was a bust from the start. Then _you_ left again, and then _I_ fucked everything up. And we started thinking maybe-”

“Maybe we read too much into things. Maybe I was right when I said we've lived so closely for so long we were bound to sleep with each other at least once. All that sexual tension, y’know” She shoots a grin at Cory, and Shawn snorts at the way Cory blushes at the memory.

“You came back again and again and again after that and we thought, maybe _this_ is the way to do things. Like everyone expects.”

Shawn can't help noticing how they've always seemed to be operating on the same freaky wavelength.

“But after everything today, it got us thinking that-”

“That you can't put it to rest without at least trying. I know”. He laughs sadly. “I've wanted to hear you guys say all this for the longest time, since probably before I even knew. Consciously, I mean. But,” his throats getting hoarse and he plays with the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling very exposed. “You think we can really pull this off? I mean, I really blew it over the years.”

“You blew it? What about me.” Cory affects a mocking tone “Oh Shawn, let me scheme with my wife and plan out your future without asking or telling you. I’m sure you’ll just _love_ it and stay here forever and ever.”

“Yeah, that was really dumb. Sorry for blowing up on you that night though.” He looks at Topanga seriously. “And sorry for storming out without even saying goodbye. That was extra shitty.”

She rubs his calf and smiles. “It's alright. Though, if I _was_ there, I probably would have at least smacked Cory for you.”

Silence sets in again, and they lay there in the dark, taking it in. Then, all at once, each of them tries to break the silence with a long _so_. It sets them into a brief round of giggles before they sober up.

“But seriously... are we really gonna try this? Us?”

“I'm in if you're in.”

“Me too.”

“Good because now I can finally do this.” Topanga leans down, half covering the length of Shawn's body with her own and kisses him, long and slow. Shawn returns it eagerly, one hand threading through her hair and one lying on her back.

A hand tightens on his hair, stinging but not painful, and he realizes belatedly that Cory's being left out.

 _Well_ , he thinks, _we have to change that_. He pulls himself up, taking Topanga with him until they're both half in Cory’s lap. Cory makes a small strangled sound at the shift, and the pair trade evil expressions before attacking.

Topanga kisses him deeply while Shawn works his neck and ear, spots he knows (of course he knows) drive Cory crazy. And then Cory's lips are on Topanga, and Shawn’s kissing her neck. And it's just like the night of her graduation, but so much better. Because they're all sober and all finally, mercifully, on the same page.

They trade positions and partners, testing the waters. Cory's got his hand halfway into Shawn's pants and Shawn's hands are under Topanga's shirt, ghosting up the skin of her sides when Alan's snoring stops. They freeze at the sudden silence, holding their breath and listening carefully.

There's rustling and they can hear Amy murmur an annoyed "Alan!" Alan mumbles something back. Then more snoring.

They finally breathe out.

“Is it just me,” Shawn starts, “or do you guys feel like we're gonna get caught by Cory's parents?”

They burst into quiet giggles at the thought of being caught like teenagers.

As the sky starts to lighten behind them, they slowly drift off, curled around each other in their customary positions.

There’s a lot more to talk about and to work out between the three of them, of course. But curled up together in the early hours of Christmas Day, it all feels perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> So the like, 10 of you who might have read part of this the other day might notice this is a lot different. Originally, I was going to post this in chapters, but the more I wrote, the more I revised, and I think maybe it works better as one long work, albeit one that's broken up a lot. But ANYWAY, this went through a lot of weird phases/drafts and is radically different than what I originally started. Personally, I blame Home for the Holidays and the fact I just finished rewatching seasons 6 and 7 of BMW (aka, the time of the most angsty, self-hating Shawn Hunter)
> 
> The title's from an Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness song of the same name.
> 
> FYI, I have a really elaborate headcanon for these weird shows, and a lot of it deals with fixing retcons/plot holes/characters who were put on a bus. So Nebula exists, Stacy exists, even if they're only mentioned vaguely. If you have any random questions about it, feel free to ask me on tumblr ([lemonynarrators.tumblr.com](lemonynarrators.tumblr.com))
> 
> As always comments/criticism/etc are welcome, and i totally accept requests, prompts, and ideas


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